The Scarlet Stain
by Beautiful Taboo
Summary: "I'm not doing this to get in your pants, okay?" So Ryoma says. RyoFujiTezu, yaoi
1. Prologue

**WARNING**: Yaoi (M)

Ryoma/Fuji/Tezuka

All disclaimers apply.

* * *

**THE SCARLET STAIN**

Beautiful Taboo

* * *

**(prologue)**

We all knew that it was bound to happen sooner or later. After all, it was something normal, something that was _supposed_ to be there, something they, themselves expected.

Fuji Syuusuke, in particular, was shocked the first time it came to him. One day, after waking up from a strange dream, he sat up in his bed panting and damp from sweat and he called in sick for school. As soon as he put down the phone, he ran to his bathroom and sat on the toilet, his head resting on the cold marble wall. It took some time before the throbbing in his groin could fully manifest itself in his consciousness. Without doing anything further, he pulled his legs up to his chest and, trying to ignore his painful erection, held himself in a quiet reverie, wondering how and why it happened.

And that was when he realized it: he grew up.

Of course, waking up with an erection was something considered normal. In fact, the worse it could do was have the witness turn around in embarrassment and leave the room for the person caught in the act to relieve himself. But for Fuji, it was an entirely different matter.

He had dreamt of Tezuka in _that_ way.

He had gotten an erection with _Tezuka_ in mind.

Doing _those_ things.

_Tezuka_.

A guy.

He was shaken shitless, that was for sure. He was so scared that he shook on top of the toilet, biting his lip, trying hard not to cry. He tried to console himself with the fact that maybe, other guys dreamt of other guys and got erections. Yes – that was possible, wasn't it? He closed his eyes tightly and tried to think of pictures of sexy, attractive girls from magazines, their silky, white skin and their shapely breasts, and he tried to imagine his seatmate, Karin-chan, coming down onto him in the most seductive manner possible, and he held himself. But the pictures were brittle and were soon replaced by the most mundane images of the captain – his back while walking home, his stoic face while eating lunch, his side profile while answering a Math question – and they began to play in his mind like a movie reel.

The name "Tezuka" escaped his lips in a moment of concession, and he came.

Although he didn't say it out loud then, Fuji Syuusuke understood.

He was sixteen then, in his first year of high school.

He grew up.

He was in love with another boy.

* * *

Perhaps he had known all along.

Only, he never really pegged it as anything other than friendship. After all, who was he to come up with such a conclusion? He always had his share of confessions, and, at one time, went out with a girl on a date (with his sister's insistent persuasion, but a date nonetheless). There hadn't been anything very thrilling about being with Tezuka, as well, and it wasn't like he got aroused just when they were together. Tezuka can be very boring sometimes, anyway.

But, looking into the situation clearly, as Fuji always did with everything, he saw the little things that he had missed. How he persistently waited for Tezuka to go home with him during busy afternoons. How he felt warm and content when they shared the same umbrella. How almost obsessive he got about playing a match with him. How holding his hand at that one time felt so right…

He blushed as he remembered those things, covering his face with his hands in secret embarrassment.

Surely, if Tezuka knew, he'd be disgusted. What's worse was that he'd probably avoid Fuji like plague after. Now that he realized that he was, after all, in love with Tezuka, that would prove to be more painful!

"Syuusuke-"

Fuji looked up at the sound of his sister's voice from downstairs, and was about to ask why when he realized that it was too late. His eyes widened at the sight of the object of all his problems right in his doorway, looking down at him with eyes full of curiousity.

"She told me to come in," Tezuka said in that deadpanned voice of his, closing the door behind him. In his glasses, Fuji could reflect his own bewildered look, and he quickly composed his expression. "You look pale."

"Y-You think so?" Fuji stood up quickly and brushed down his shirt. Damn the stuttering! All of a sudden, he felt so conscious. He was wearing nothing but his long shirt and shorts and it would be obvious if he had gotten—OH FOR GOD'S SAKE. "Wait—I'll put on a pair of pants."

Tezuka nodded briefly, and he turned around as an act of courtesy. He began quietly poking through Fuji's classics CD collection as Fuji shuffled in his closet for a pair of pants.

"There. Done." Fuji put on his regular smile and popped down on his bed. "I see you've brought my notes. How considerate of you."

"Kazano-san took them down for you. She told you to get well soon."

"Karin-chan," Fuji said, nodding and silently apologizing for using her image in such a disgusting manner earlier. "I'll make sure to thank her. I think this isn't anything serious – I'll be able to go back to school tomorrow."

He saw Tezuka pause at his Mozart CD, fiddling with it. He knew that at that moment, Tezuka was thinking of the next thing he'd say, and Fuji almost laughed at how calmly he took all these. He was scared that he'd get another boner just with talking with Tezuka, but he was glad to find out that his hormones weren't in such a riot.

"You should go out with Kazano-san," Tezuka finally said.

Fuji laughed. Tezuka turned around and Fuji clammed up when he saw that the captain was serious. He looked away and fiddled with his toes before Tezuka stood in front of him.

"Fuji," he began, and Fuji looked up. Their eyes met. "I'm in love with Yamazaki-san."

Fuji pictured the quiet, bespectacled girl in their class. He smiled at the picture of her and Tezuka together. They looked like they'd get along – him going with her to the library, and her wishing him luck before going out onto one of his matches.

"I'm happy for you."

Tezuka nodded, and patted Fuji firmly on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"Yes."

Fuji couldn't quite remember how Tezuka left then. He found it funny how his problem began and ended in one day. Years later, he would remember this day exactly as how it'd happen.

How his first love began. And how it would end only a few years later.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

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This'll probably just be a few chapters… - BT


	2. Chapter 1

Thanks for all the reviews, and sorry this took so long. I also changed the rating to T. Also, please be reminded that the previous part uploaded isn't chapter 1, but a just a prologue.

All disclaimers apply.

* * *

**THE SCARLET STAIN**

Beautiful Taboo

* * *

**(uno)**

**

* * *

**

Fuji Syuusuke had a normal school life until the month before graduating college. That was when he finally went out of the closet and told Tezuka one day when they both got drunk. Well, at least Tezuka did, as Fuji had planned. After confessing, though, he wished that Tezuka would just wake up with a hangover and think that everything was just a dream.

But that was nothing but wishful thinking, because before Fuji made his great escape, Tezuka just happened to say 'Stay' in the most seductive way possible. Needless to say, Fuji took advantage of the drunkenness and just had Tezuka do him right there and then on Tezuka's apartment floor. Tezuka therefore woke up with a naked, sleeping Fuji beside him, and a soiled blanket on top of them.

Who could blame Fuji? It had been five years of restraint.

"I love you, Tezuka," he explained in what he hoped to be his regular voice, covering himself with his blanket as Tezuka's stare greeted him good morning. "All this time."

Tezuka, by this time, was fully clothed. He pushed Fuji away and walked out.

It took weeks before Tezuka looked at him again.

As with the fate of some homosexuals, the day Tezuka talked to him again also happened to be the second day of them doing it. It was a month after The Incident, and he appeared in front of Fuji's apartment room and apologized and Fuji apologized back and things took the natural flow and they ended up having sex again on Fuji's table top. This time, though, Tezuka was sober. And he didn't leave right after dressing up.

Instead, they had a talk.

"Coffee?" Fuji offered, bright and beaming, as with a girl in love.

"Yes, please."

Fuji sat in front of Tezuka and watched him drink his coffee in his Tezuka way. God, the man was sexy, he thought, and he was about to say it out loud when Tezuka cut his thoughts off.

"I think we shouldn't do this again."

Fuji's mouth hung open. "You mind, don't you? You don't like how I've turned out."

"Of course, I mind," he replied in a measured face. "I care. You weren't supposed to be like… this." Fuji looked away, gripping his teapot with shaking hands. "Syuusuke," Tezuka said, putting his hand over Fuji's, squeezing it firmly. "I'm straight."

Fuji would've swooned there and then at the feeling of Tezuka's hand on his, but considering the context of the conversation, he was edging more and more towards blowing his top. "Goddamn right, you're straight. After a night of wild sex with another man and then holding my hand, you're telling me to keep it casual? Who do you think I am, your bitch?" The words were on the tip of Fuji's tongue.

Instead, he swallowed them off and he smiled. "Saa, I understand."

Oh well. Just call him 'bitch'.

"I'm glad you do." He patted Fuji's hand and stood up. "Thank you for the coffee."

With that, Tezuka left the apartment.

Days later, he would come back and apologize AGAIN, which, of course, led to another round. The morning scene replayed. The fact that Tezuka was straight was always emphasized, and Fuji knew that all of these were his fault for being different, for wanting the wrong thing from the wrong person.

This went on and on until graduation, and both sides eventually figured out what everything was about:

They had become friends with benefits. Nothing more. Everything less.

Now, you're probably wondering why we just have to rush through this certain part of the story. This is because that is not where we begin, and this is not what our story will be about.

* * *

Our story began one day, four years after The Incident.

Expectedly, there had been other Incidents after, but despite that, Tezuka eventually got married to his high school sweetheart. He came over once in a while. Sometimes, to talk, to reminisce about the old days. There would be sex, but less than before. Tezuka said that this was because their hormones have tamed down. Fuji said nothing about his, though. It was true that what he got wasn't enough, but he certainly wasn't the type who'd grovel on the floor begging for it.

On that particular day, Tezuka came over to talk.

"How is work going for you?" Tezuka asked politely, as he held out a cup for Fuji to pour tea in.

"Fine," Fuji replied chirpily. "Everyone's generally nice to the newbies at first. It's better than my first job. Office work had never been meant for me. Would you like to see the pictures I've taken for the centerfold? They were shoo-ins."

"I'd love to."

Sometimes, Fuji wondered if he and Tezuka had ever crossed the boundary of friendship. When they talked, they were always polite and reserved. But Fuji liked this kind of Tezuka, too.

He watched as Tezuka sifted through his portfolio, nodding towards the ones he liked best.

"Mitsu, how's Asami-chan doing?" Fuji piped up, as he sat on the couch in front of Tezuka.

Tezuka smiled slightly, beaming. "She's doing well, thank you. We're going to the hospital for her monthly check tomorrow."

Fuji chuckled. "I'm guessing that the little kid would grow up looking like you. Though I certainly hope _not_. Especially if it's a girl."

All of a sudden, Tezuka closed the portfolio and looked at Fuji. "There's something I've wanted to say…"

_Shit_. Fuji closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself. These were the moments that scared him the most. Would Tezuka break it off with him right there and then? He and his wife were about to have a kid. It would be the logical thing to do. It would be-

"Echizen is coming home tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could pick him up?"

"Of course, I understand your decision. I've always thought that—wait, what?" Fuji opened his eyes and stared at Tezuka. "E-Echizen."

"Yes. You haven't forgotten about him, have you?"

"How could I ever forget?" Fuji smiled, relief flooding through him. Come that point, he would be ready to do anything. _Even_ grovel on the floor. "And I'd love to."

* * *

The airport wasn't crowded that day. In fact, Fuji had managed to spot the Fila cap-wearing Echizen Ryoma within minutes of his flight's landing. If anything, nothing much had changed for the tennis prodigy, except for an apparent growth spurt and longer hair and a more apparent aura of being better than everyone else and knowing it.

"Mitsu told me to say hello."

Ryoma nodded. "Hello, Fuji-sempai." He paused and observed Fuji intently. "You look strange when your hair's like that."

Fuji felt himself flush at what he thought was a compliment. "Thank you," he replied, fingering his small ponytail. "You look quite nice, yourself. You grew out your hair?"

"Didn't have time to cut it." Ryoma stretched his neck to look around. Fuji noticed the funny way Ryoma's dark hair brushed against the pale skin at the back of his neck. It sort of reminded him of Tezuka's neck when Fuji reached out to—Stop. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

"He – Mitsu – isn't here."

"I know. I was wondering if I could have a match with you somewhere here."

Fuji laughed nervously, managing to push his thoughts to the back of his mind at the last minute. "I didn't bring my racket. Maybe some other time." He bent down to pick up one of Ryoma's bags. "Try to be normal and show some signs of jet lag, will you? I'm supposed to bring you to your hotel. Shall we go?"

The boy nodded and picked up the rest of his luggage, following Fuji obediently, and feeling the jet lag finally kick in.

* * *

Fuji had been pleased to find out that Ryoma wasn't as tight-lipped as before. Once he initiated the conversation, the boy actually took it to himself to reply properly. It seemed that Ryoma still kept on playing tennis and making money out of his game. And he'd been doing well over in America, as well. He'd also listened intently as Fuji talk about his job as a photographer for a magazine, and how Tezuka had been doing with his wife.

"I'd like to play against buchou before I go."

Fuji smiled. "When will that be?"

"I don't know yet," Ryoma replied. He placed his head on his palm and looked upward. "Maybe after I play against him?"

"You never change. Haven't you ever thought that maybe Mitsu is a beer-bellied office man by now?"

"Never," Ryoma replied straight-facedly. "And how about our match?"

Fuji shrugged slightly. "Not today." He patted the camera bag on top of the table. "I have to go back to work by two. How about you?"

After sighing in displeasure, Ryoma leaned against his chair and yawned. "Some interview."

"Saa, famous, aren't we? I bet you're some kind of a heartthrob. Speaking of, how was it with Ryuzaki-chan?"

Ryoma smirked. "What 'it' are you talking about, sempai?" He had leaned across the table, his eyes flickering in interest.

"We all know you had something going on with her back then." He punched Ryoma slightly on the shoulder. "Tell me."

"There wasn't anything. Nothing happened."

"Oh. That's too bad. She even followed you to America and everything."

"She went back quicker than I expected," Ryoma pulled back and placed his hands behind his head. "But I guess we're in the same boat right now, then."

Fuji's eyes flicked open.

"Come on, sempai," Ryoma said in a low voice, the smirk still on his face. "We all knew you had something going on with 'Mitsu' back then," he echoed. "As Momo-sempai put it, it was written all across your face."

Fuji smiled. "Nonsense." But his mind had began to calculate when and how this must be possible. If he remembered it correctly, he had come to terms with his orientation by senior year of high school. By that time, Ryoma had gone to America and Momoshiro had entered another school. "Nonsense."

"Mada mada dane."

Fuji stood up, shaken but not willing to show it. "I should be going now." He was almost too sure. Ryoma knew something. He definitely did. He glanced nervously at his watch.

"I'll come by sometime, sempai."

Fuji had already left.

* * *

Fuji had tried to avoid being in Ryoma's company since then. He had been tempted to go a few times, when Momoshiro or Inui called him up for some get-together and drinking, to celebrate Ryoma's coming home. He made up excuses about being busy and about dropping by next time. He made sure he never did, though.

Nobody except for Tezuka knew about… him. Fuji had managed to put up a good façade in front of his family and friends by going out with the occasional interested female friend. He knew that there had been some guesses about him way back in junior high, but no one really confronted him about it upfront except for that day in the hotel with Ryoma. It scared him.

Well, actually, he lied.

There was someone else who knew.

His boss from his past work.

For some reason, the boss had taken interest in him and brought him home. Fuji had never really intended to sleep with him. He was drunk and he needed someone to help him walk. That night, they had sex. This was during the time when Tezuka was about to get married.

The next morning, things were different. When his boss woke up, hangover and all, he said he wanted to talk. He asked Fuji to go out with him, gave him the usual "I've been in love with you since the first time I saw you" speech, and managed to sleep with him for the second time. Fuji, for once, had felt happy about himself.

And then, his wife found out.

Without any warning, Fuji was called into his office and was told that he was fired. And that he was dumped.

"Who'd go out with a fag like you?" he sneered. "I was keeping you for the sex."

Fuji shrugged and socked his boss in the mug. "_I_ was keeping _you_ for the sex," he said, smiling his usual smile. "And you weren't even good."

He left with his head held high, but he ended up locking himself in his apartment for a while.

It had been a long time since he remembered. But sitting alone in your dining room with store-bought bento while your friends are probably out drinking and catching up with each other called for it. He was feeling particularly miserable, so miserable that once his apartment bell rang, he jumped out of his seat and practically ran to the door to open it with a smile on his face.

It was Tezuka.

"Mitsu!" He immediately wrapped his arms around him. It had been days. And he thought that it would be a paper boy or a neighbor or something.

"I went home early when I found out that you weren't there." He pushed his bangs from his forehead. "I was worried. They said you weren't feeling well."

Jesus. Good Jesus. Thank you. Fuji buried his face into Tezuka's coat. He could still feel the cold from outside. Tezuka embraced back and they went inside.

He forgot about everything else.

* * *

Later that night, Fuji was sitting on his bed comfortably as he tried to take in everything that Tezuka had left in his room – his scent, his warmth, and the temporary feeling of owning him. It was enough to make Fuji smile to himself, despite the fact that Tezuka couldn't sleep over because Asami needed him for her exercises.

The doorbell rang again, and Fuji jumped out of bed quickly, not bothering to cover up because Tezuka most probably have come back to take his scarf, which he forgot to pick up before leaving.

"Mitsu, here's your-"

"Ah."

Fuji's eyes widened. It was Ryoma, looking at him from head to foot.

"Good evening, Fuji-sempai."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

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When I'm about to write chapter two and reread this, I'd probably think, "What the fuck did I just write?" Anyway, I'm just happy that I managed to put out the premise of the whole story. And I'm posting it right now before I get too embarrassed to post it later.

Btw, I've been having this dilemma ever since I started shipping Fuji x Ryoma. Who's the seme? o_o I like manly ukes so I'm tempted to make Ryoma uke but Fuji's so… uke-ish. It's really hard to decide when you put two ukes together. =_=; - BT


	3. Chapter 2

Wow, thanks for the reviews and for the inputs, although they were very varied and I couldn't decide right now. But let's see. Maybe as I write, I'd figure out something. Hee. This will be shorter than the previous one since I wanted to keep this chapter to only one night.

ADVANCED MERRY CHRISTMAS.

* * *

**The Scarlet Stain**

**(dos)**

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"_Mitsu, here's your-"_

"_Ah."_

_Fuji's eyes widened. It was Ryoma, looking at him from head to foot._

"_Good evening, Fuji-sempai."

* * *

_

Fuji could only stare in reply as his kouhai stood in the place where he expected Tezuka to be - in a thick, oversized coat with a plastic bag of beer cans from the nearby 7-11, and his hair messed up by the wind from being outside. He tried to take in Ryoma's slightly surprised expression as he tried to dig his mind for something to say.

"So," Ryoma began, looking away quickly and his eyes traveling to the elevators, probably coming up with a hypothesis on what happened. "I saw buchou going down the stairs. But he didn't see me because I didn't have my cap."

"Oh.. yes... Mitsu..."

"So," Ryoma said again, meeting Fuji's eyes fearlessly. "He came over, huh."

Fuji, finally stumped in total desperation, ended up giving a nervous laugh. "Come in," he said, not having any idea what he was doing. Somehow, old Fuji managed to take over his system and push his worries to the back of his head temporarily. "It's cold out."

When he had the young man seated on his couch in his living room, the first thing Ryoma said was, "Aren't you cold, sempai? You're half-naked." Ryoma began tinkering with the small tennis player figurine on the small table. "I guess you were in the shower when I came, right?"

Fuji almost melted in relief.

"Yes, the shower, yes," he said. "Let me just put on some clothes."

* * *

Minutes later, the two were sitting in front of the other in Fuji's dining table. Ryoma had placed the beer cans on top and had already made himself comfortable in his seat, with one arm slung over the back rest. He wore a black band shirt and jeans, and his hair was still in a mess.

Fuji caught himself staring at Ryoma's chest, and he shook himself silly, brushing the thoughts away. Perhaps it was because he hadn't been getting enough...? But didn't he just do it with Tezuka?

"_Sempai_."

Fuji raised his head and saw the look on Ryoma's face. It showed something like he'd been saying the same thing over and over for a while now.

"Sorry," he replied with a chuckle. "I was looking at your chest- ah. I meant that you really grew up quite a lot." He felt his face go hot. Way to go and slip, Fuji. You might as well jump him, too, and he probably won't notice a damn thing.

Ryoma covered the lower half of his face with his hand as he slid lower in his seat. (Was he laughing?) Behind the hand, he saw that he was smirking, and Fuji groaned.

"Sankyuu," Ryoma replied, still not taking his hand over his mouth. "Fuji-sempai looks nice, too."

Fuji chuckled nervously. For some reason, Ryoma - and the way his eyes glinted - looked dangerous. Very dangerous. He wondered what had happened in America, how much Ryoma had grown. He could tell that a lot of girls still liked him, and that he was rather popular, based on the tennis magazines that Tezuka'd occasionally bring over (not that he was doing badly, himself; he and Tezuka still somehow got the same attention from females, and males as they did back when they were younger).

"The trains are closed and the sempai-tachi told me to go here. It was the closest one to the restaurant, and you were the only one without a roommate. Or a girlfriend." Ryoma shrugged, as he just lapsed back into his original mood. "Besides, I haven't hung out with Fuji-sempai yet ever since the airport." He glared a bit. "You promised to have a match with me."

Cute. Fuji almost laughed, but all he said was, "Oh.".

Ryoma took a can from the plastic bag. "Let's drink, sempai."

Beer. It would be dangerous for Fuji to get drunk. Especially after Tezuka had just left and he hasn't really recovered yet (as always, whenever Tezuka came over). "No, thank you. But feel free to drink all you want. The couch is clean and, ah, I'll be off to bed. With work tomorrow and all." He made a move to stand up. He wouldn't make the same mistake he did with Tezuka, because this would be worse. He didn't love Ryoma, and vice versa. At least back then, one side had some love.

"Wait, sempai." Ryoma had leaned against the table and grabbed Fuji by the wrist. His hand was big. Fuji felt his wrist burning. "I didn't come over here to drink alone."

"I don't drink," Fuji replied firmly.

"Momo-sempai said that you drunk with them a lot."

"I just stopped."

"I saw beer in your fridge."

_Shit_. Fuji sighed and sat back down. "Fine." He took the plastic bag. "Let's do this in the living room."

* * *

Only an hour into drinking, Ryoma's face was already a bit red. Fuji only had two cans, and was trying to wait until Ryoma fell asleep. He almost laughed when he realized that, despite the sudden growth, Ryoma still couldn't hold his alcohol well. His eyes were drooping slightly. He still wasn't drunk enough, though and Fuji knew that he could still handle a few more.

"Sempai," Ryoma began, his voice dragging. "D'you remember when you asked about Ryuzaki?"

"Yes?"

"She did go to America. To see me." He smiled.

"Did she."

Ryoma nodded. "Said that she followed me there and everything. And then she became my girlfriend after a few days. She was my first." He flushed a bit and looked away. "In everything."

"That's nice," Fuji said, smiling sincerely. "You look really good together."

"I liked her a lot."

"Yes."

"We were together for two years. She studied with me there."

"Yes."

"But then she went back."

"Of course, she has a family here. Ryuuzaki-sensei." Fuji handed Ryoma another beer to loosen him up. This was getting suddenly interesting. He had always been curious as to what happened between Ryoma and Sakuno. It seemed like an eternity ago when he and the others from the club tried to pair the two up with various schemes. Looks like nothing went to waste.

"I know. She always went back every break," Ryoma said, chuckling after sipping from his can. "But on the last time, she didn't come back."

Fuji's jaw dropped. "Why?"

Instead of answering the question, Ryoma just stared at his can and said, "She was there earlier. During the party." He ran a hand through his hair. "With Kawamura-sempai."

The silence between them became anything but comfortable. Ryoma sat, toying with the can between his hands, and looking at the floor. He looked like he was recalling a far off memory. Fuji just looked like he was at loss. He didn't know what to say.

"Well, she was mada mada dane, anyway," Ryoma said, breaking off the silence with a small Ryoma-like smile. He had a huge gulp of beer. "It's sempai's turn."

"Ha?"

Ryoma tipped his can towards Fuji. "Won't be fair to me."

Fuji squirmed in his seat. He knew what Ryoma was getting at. Damn. Fuji drank more beer. Finally, when he saw from Ryoma's face that he wouldn't let it go even if Fuji drowned himself drinking alcohol. "What about me do you want to know?"

"Do you still play?"

"Tennis? Of course. Just not as often." Fuji let himself smirk. "I'm still good."

"I look forward to it," Ryoma replied, grinning excitedly. "Brother?"

"Oh, he's getting along well with others better. And me. We meet at least once a month, even if he's outside Tokyo now. He says he prefers it when we don't live in the same area. But he's still pretty much the same."

Ryoma nodded, and soon, he looked more serious and cradled his chin with his hands. "Girlfriends?"

"Saa..." Fuji pretended to think. "One, I guess. High school."

"Who was it?"

"I forgot her name. But she was friends with Mitsu's girlfriend. We never really got to be together... it was an I'll-bring-your-notes-when-you're-sick kind of thing. But Mitsu did that, mostly, so..."

"What?"

"Aa. She kind of drifted off, you know? Got to know a better guy. Anyway, I didn't really mind. Mitsu and I were busy with tennis and school and college exams, and had no time for anything else. It was quite easy to handle."

Ryoma leaned against the couch and groaned. "You're no fun. It's like you were married to buchou or something."

"A-Ahaha. Sorry if I'm boring you."

"But it's not impossible, you know," Ryoma mused, toying with his can. "You and buchou."

"Are you still on to that idea? What makes you think like that? We're both guys, and we've been together since junior high," Fuji defended, feeling his whole body grow hot at the lies he was saying. His words were stumbling over the other. "And Tezuka has been married to Asami-chan and had liked her ever since then. No matter how you try to look at it, it is impossible for both of us to-"

By this time, Fuji's face was red and his heart was beating fast. His fists were clenched, his fingers digging into his beer can. He could feel himself sweating underneath his polo shirt. For some reason, he felt like he wanted to spill everything, and to hear Ryoma say the same things that Tezuka did during the morning of The Incident.

"Not really," Ryoma said, as if he was thinking out loud. "Even _I_ kind of liked Fuji-sempai back then."

"_What_?" Fuji said, almost breathless. He was half-standing. "What did you say?"

Ryoma didn't back down, and his cat-like eyes just stared back into Fuji's horrified blue ones. Ryoma seemed unfazed, and acted like what he was saying was something as easy as 'hello'.

"I kind of liked you back then," he repeated in all seriousness. "Didn't you like buchou like that, too?"

Finally, Fuji laughed. "Really. You must be drunk."

"I'm not," Ryoma insisted, putting his beer can away as if to prove a point. "Isn't that normal?"

"Of course not!" Fuji replied a tad too quickly. "That's beyond normal. Liking another guy makes you different, wrong, sick. That's what people think, Echizen. If you become homosexual, people who know will point their fingers at you, laugh at you, take advantage of you. Does that sound normal? Who'd want to be like that?" His voice was rising at every word. Everything in him wanted to stop but the alcohol was kicking in. Or maybe, he just wanted to let it all out. "You know what, I think this conversation is utter bullshit."

"Aa- Fuji-sempai sounds weird. You're taking it too seriously."

Finally, Fuji stood up, his hands running through his hair wearily. He was laughing softly to himself. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm going to bed."

"Huh? What? Why?"

"Because I'm drunk. Because I want to sleep. Good night." He glanced back. "Feel free to use the couch."

"Wait, sempai-"

But Ryoma didn't catch his wrist this time. Fuji slammed the door to his bedroom and crawled under his covers. What _wasn't_ too serious? Fuji asked himself. No matter how bad it was with Ryoma and Sakuno, it could never measure up to what Fuji had gone through. Never. And what's worse was that Fuji couldn't tell anyone and then feel better about it enough to want to know about how others are working out, just as what Ryoma had done with him earlier.

And THEN he says that he _liked_ Fuji?

Hearing the sounds of Ryoma cleaning up in the other room made him shut his eyes tight and try to fall asleep and forget about everything that had happened. The dull pain in his chest that he felt every time Tezuka left him alone in his apartment was back, but this time, it was throbbing so painfully that Fuji wanted to scream.

Maybe he cried.

Or maybe he was just dreaming that he did.

Nonetheless, it was a fitful sleep that Fuji didn't want to wake up from.

* * *

**To be continued.**

**

* * *

**

I hope to have established a few bits: Ryoma grew up and he grew up hot. Okay, just kidding. XD Ryoma is taller than Fuji and more built. Remember that he kept on playing pro tennis while Fuji ended up being a photographer. But then again, I have a thing about manly ukes, hurhur.

About the Kawamura-Sakuno thing, I really didn't just pull it out of my ass. I tried to think of a person whose personality would fit Sakuno's more. I thought that the gentle and simple Kawamura would charm her not just because they were similar, but because she could be sure that, unlike with Ryoma, she wouldn't always get left behind.

And yes, this is angst, and so will it be for the next chapters. Even more so.

BT


	4. Chapter 3

Thanks again for the reviews. I have nothing to say much, really. Right now, I'm just writing the first things that come to my head and I would edit it a few days later. Sorry if my chapters are getting shorter and shorter as I move up the story. I've been finding myself finishing a whole arc of related events that I have no choice but to just end the chapter there. And also, I apologize if this chapter was a bit delayed, although I'm glad that it didn't take too long. The next chapter might be, though. Let's see..

* * *

**The Scarlet Stain**

**(tres)**

**

* * *

**

Fuji stood in his kitchen doorway, surprised.

What greeted him first thing that morning was the clean living room. It appeared that Ryoma really did bit of a clean-up after last night. Now that Fuji was in the kitchen, he saw the boy in a heavy battle against his toaster. The boy had put on Fuji's apron and it looked awkward as it hung at his side, with the ribbon messily done. Spills of coffee were on the table, and the smell of burnt toast hung in the air. When Ryoma turned around a bit, he flushed before his mouth turned up into a forced smirk.

"Your toaster's mada mada," he said quickly, as he ran his hand through his bed hair.

Fuji had to laugh.

* * *

By the time they were having breakfast, the chaos that Ryoma put up was now cleaned up, and Fuji managed to salvage some extra bread and make them both a quick serving of buttered toast ("You're paying me for the groceries, Echizen. You burnt a week's supply."). They were quietly sipping coffee, with Ryoma's eyes darting to and from Fuji's calm face.

He almost jumped when Fuji put down his cup and leaned across the table.

"Thanks for cleaning up."

"S'ok," Ryoma said between chews.

"I'm sorry for last night."

The boy said nothing. Fuji took a deep breath.

"I'm in love with Tezuka," he told Ryoma slowly, "and he comes over sometimes. Perhaps you've gotten that much from what happened, haven't you?" When Ryoma nodded, Fuji gave a small laugh. "Saa, now that sounds pretty weird, especially with how I reacted all defensively. I'm sorry. You gave me quite a scare there. You rattled my nerves, so to speak. To be honest, you're the first one to know. Aside from Tezuka, of course."

"Sorry," Ryoma mumbled sincerely.

Fuji shook his head and chuckled. "I suppose your image of me has changed very drastically." He looked up to meet Ryoma's cat-like eyes.

They stared at each other for a while, before Ryoma brought down his cup and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Not really," Ryoma replied. "Back then, I only looked at Fuji-sempai tennis-wise."

Fuji let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He broke into a relieved-surprised laughter, as he stood up to clear the table. The way Ryoma looked at the world didn't change at all, apparently. Fuji found himself feeling a bit thankful that he didn't.

"Let's get you ready to go, Echizen."

* * *

An hour later, Fuji and Ryoma stood facing each other in the doorway. For some reason, Fuji felt sorry to have Ryoma go back to his hotel. This was the first time he told anyone about Tezuka, and now that someone else knew, he wanted to tell him all about it. He hadn't realized until then that the bigger part of the burden he felt was not being able to say anything about it. He wondered if Tezuka felt the same.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Ryoma said, bowing slightly. "I may have to intrude again some time in the future."

"Feel free to drop by anytime."

Ryoma grinned, and Fuji considered that as an invitation to say what he'd wanted to say ever since that morning. Gulping, he echoed the first thing he had asked Tezuka back then.

"You mind, don't you?" he asked, his smile weak now. His voice was shaking. "You don't like how I've turned out."

Ryoma stared at him for a while before shrugging. "I don't really care that much."

"What if I fell in love with you instead?" Fuji asked again, finding himself desperate to hear the same answer that he received back then. "You'd mind then, wouldn't you?"

To his surprise, Ryoma chuckled. "Wouldn't know yet," he said, turning around and giving him a small wave. Midway, he stopped and glanced back thoughtfully. "Doesn't sound so bad, though. If it's Fuji-sempai."

Fuji found himself watching as Ryoma walked away, hands in his pocket, and hair still unruly.

The burden felt heavier.

* * *

"Syuusuke," Tezuka's voice broke into his thoughts. "Syuusuke, are you alright?"

Fuji looked up and realized that he had been daydreaming. He rubbed his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine." He looked at Tezuka's side and smiled again. There stood Asami, her eyebrows pinched together in a worried line. "Don't worry, Asami-san. I'm just overworked, that's all. You know how it is when you're new."

He saw Tezuka's wife sigh in relief as she set down a tray of tea. Fuji could see how her large stomach protruded from her small frame as she struggled to sit down. Tezuka reached up to support her.

"Eight months," Fuji breathed in awe, as he took the cup of tea she offered. "It's grown so big. Pregnant women are fascinating."

"Really, Fuji-kun! Stop talking about me like I'm a science experiment!" Asami reprimanded all of a sudden, and Fuji looked sheepish. "Anyway, I think that your life as a bachelor's taking the youth out of you. You seem so tired all the time! You should also find yourself a wife to cook for you and clean your apartment. If you had courted me first, I'd have gone out with you instead of Mitsu here." She patted Tezuka's knee amiably, and Tezuka smiled gently at her usual joke. "I have some friends who might just be interested. Heck, I'm sure a lot of people would be interested even without my referrals!"

Fuji laughed. Asami always talked like that, that he sometimes couldn't imagine how she and Tezuka got together She was too lively, even for him. "I'm alright, really, Asami-san. I'm still fairly new at the company, so I need to focus on it right now. And believe me, my house is very clean, and my food is rather good."

She made a rude sound and muttered, "Men."

"How was Echizen doing?"

"Oh, same old. He went over to drink last night and we talked quite a bit. You'd be surprised at how much the boy changed." Fuji toyed with his cup. "I thought you went out with him already?"

"I had to go home early," Tezuka said, his voice taking an odd tone. "I haven't been able to talk to him much."

"I keep telling him to stop worrying about me," Asami interjected, "and to just hang out with his old tennis buddies. But does he listen? No, he rushes back home and paces around me like a paranoid mother!" She laughed. "Sometimes, I think he's the one who's pregnant. Thank God that you're there. You're the only person Mitsu could really hang out with for long intervals of time."

Fuji blushed and Tezuka rose up a bit to protest. "Asami-"

"Fuji-kun, you should hang out with Mitsu a bit more." She smiled gently at Fuji. "He's gonna need the testosterone or he'll turn into a woman."

"Perfect," Fuji replied, turning quite uneasy. "Echizen just told me how badly he wanted to play against Mitsu again. That boy has as much testosterone as you're going to get. Saa, maybe I should schedule something like that in the future."

Tezuka didn't look up. "Did he."

"Yes. He was really looking forward to it. Thinking better, though, you might need to practice more, Mitsu. You might have gotten really rusty after not playing regularly," Fuji continued. He glanced at the wall clock desperately and put down his cup. "Ah, I'm sorry! I overstayed my welcome."

"Nonsense. It's so rare to have you over these days," Asami whined. "I want to talk to you more, Fuji-kun! And I've heard you've photographed quite a few celebrities already! Mou!"

"Asami, he has work tomorrow," Tezuka reminded. He stood up. "I'll accompany him to the train station." He looked at Fuji. "Is that all right with you, Syuusuke?"

Fuji nodded. "Of course."

* * *

In his hotel room, Echizen Ryoma lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had been sleeping the whole day because he didn't get to sleep a wink last night at all. When he got home, he found himself so exhausted that he threw himself on his bed, outdoor clothes and all.

Now, it was well into the night and he was awake and silent as his dream ran through his head.

He dreamt of Fuji.

Fuji and him.

Finally, he jumped out of bed and got into a quick shower. As soon as he got out and dried himself, he threw on the first clothes he could get. He grabbed his hotel keys and money from his dresser and went out of the hotel in a hurry.

He needed to go to Fuji's apartment.

Now.

* * *

* * *

Fuji buttoned down his shirt quietly, his face flushed, and his hair slightly soaked in sweat. He looked at Tezuka, who had his back behind him, also fixing himself up. He took in the cramped space they had just made love in, and he felt slightly sick at the dingy condition of the station bathroom.

"I'm going out to get a bit of air," he said, as he opened the cubicle door slightly. He caught Tezuka look up and say, "I'll be there in a minute," before he came out of the bathroom.

As Fuji stood waiting in front of the station, his hands dug deep inside his coat, he couldn't help but feel guilty, as he always felt. More now, since just a few minutes ago, he had been talking to Asami as if nothing was wrong. But he also couldn't help the joy welling up inside him, as he always felt, too, when he was with Tezuka.

He knew the other feeling was about to end.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka called out, walking towards him. "Is anything wrong?"

Fuji looked up and gave Tezuka a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." He opened his eyes. "The child is nearly due, isn't she? Only a month to go. What would you be naming her?"

"Asami told you that it would be a girl?"

Fuji nodded. He saw Tezuka's eyes cloud with guilt, as well. The feeling was too familiar. What Fuji couldn't put his finger on was whether the guilt was for him or for Asami. He decided to play it lightly. He patted Tezuka on the shoulder.

"Mitsu, don't be too stiff! It's all right, really. _I_'m all right. And Asami-san will be all right. You may not know, but we're actually phone-buddies." He grinned. "Don't worry too much about things, okay? If it comes down to it, we'll be okay with being friends again, won't we? It would be quite easy, I assure you." His voice was anything but assuring. But he kept smiling.

To his surprise, Tezuka held him by the jaw and bent down to kiss him. It was different from their kisses during sex. It was gentle and warm. There was no tongue, only the meeting of lips. Fuji closed his eyes and pressed back. When he felt himself quivering, he pulled away and looked down.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka said, his voice low. "I'm sorry."

"I understand." His response was fast. He had been prepared for this for so long that he knew what he needed to say by heart. But his head was pounding, and he could hear himself breaking.

Tezuka was silent for a while. "You don't." He looked at Fuji, his eyes sad.

"I've known it all along," Fuji said, trying to smile. His chest was throbbing now. He was in pain. He took Tezuka's hand, looking for support. "I know that you've wanted this to stop. You have a family now. You can't divide your priorities anymore. That child would want you to help her with her homework, to fumble with your fatherly advices, to see you with Asami-san. So now, you want to end this. I understand." He looked up at the clock. "The last train's about to leave. I should really go."

When he made a move to walk away, Tezuka gripped his wrist.

"You don't understand," he repeated, more firmly this time.

Fuji shook. How long was Tezuka going to try to comfort him? Now, all he wanted was to go home and let this all sink in. To drink. To watch some TV. To try and get everything back to normal, the way it had been before that damned morning in high school.

"Mitsu, I need to go."

"I'm going to get my car and bring you home, instead."

"The train's still here. But it won't be, if you won't let go of me now. I'd like to save you the trouble and go home by myself."

Tezuka didn't reply for a long time, and they stood there in a silent tableau.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka broke the silence, his voice sounding tired of everything. "I love you."

Fuji stared at him. He tried to read Tezuka's face. It was different. His eyebrows weren't together, and his expression lost all its tension. Shaking, still, Fuji gave a small smile and reached up, enveloping Tezuka's neck with his arms.

"Drive me home," he whispered.

Tezuka nodded and took his hand.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**

* * *

**

So right, my muse came up and ran around my head screaming, "Dramu! DRAMU!" in an obnoxious voice. Needless to say, the angst died and was replaced with drama. A lot of drama. Good heavens, what is this story turning into?

BT


	5. Chapter 4

Thanks for your reviews and the alerts. To be honest, I'm just surprised that people are actually reading this. I don't think I even deserve most of what you say in your reviews. Thanks again, I really am very grateful. I'll really try to keep the story moving so it won't be too draggy for you.

Enjoy!

* * *

**The Scarlet Stain**

**(quatro)**

**

* * *

**

Ryoma looked up from his sitting position when he head a car's engine from below. He stood up and walked towards the railings to check, and saw someone else come out, instead. It was Tezuka.

Feeling suddenly nervous, Ryoma walked back and leaned against the wall near Fuji's door. He got the fleeting desire to escape what he foresaw as something awkward, but his feet seemed glued to the floor. Taking a deep breath, he took his half-finished Ponta on the floor to take a sip and calm himself down.

The elevator button lighted up. He braced himself and faced it with a ready smirk.

* * *

"Buchou. Sempai."

Fuji stopped and quickly released Tezuka's hand from his hold. His eyes jumped from Ryoma to Tezuka, whose face reverted to its expressionless state. To his surprise, Tezuka reached out and took his hand. Ryoma saw this, and raised an eyebrow.

"Echizen."

Ryoma bowed slightly, and Fuji thought he caught a questioning look on the boy's face. "I forgot something from Fuji-sempai's apartment from last time."

Tezuka's grip on his hand tightened and Fuji looked up, and saw that Tezuka's face demanded an explanation. "We drank together yesterday since he wasn't able to catch the last train," he found himself explaining. He looked back at Ryoma quickly. "Anyway, what did you leave? I'm sure you cleaned up quite well..."

"My passport."

"Your... passport."

Ryoma nodded, as he completely ignored Fuji's look of disbelief. He gestured towards Fuji's door. "So. How long will we be standing here?"

* * *

Ryoma patted himself on the back for leaving his passport on purpose. It had been risky, he knew. And impulsive. He didn't even know why he suddenly felt like leaving it behind. At least now, he understood it a bit better. But not well enough.

Another thing he didn't understand was why he was so annoyed at the fact that Tezuka wasn't letting go of Fuji's hand. Didn't Fuji tell him that Tezuka insisted that he was straight?

"Mitsu," Fuji suddenly said, "I need to look for his passport." He shook the hand being held. Tezuka said nothing and let it go. He walked over to the couch quietly and sat down. Ryoma, feeling adventurous, walked over and sat next to him.

"So you're over here a lot, ne, buchou?"

"Relatively, yes."

"Ehh, such an enduring friendship, then."

"You can say that."

"Echizen," Fuji coughed out loudly, cutting the strange, tense atmosphere. "Where did you remember leaving it?"

Ryoma glanced at Fuji and smiled. "I think it's near the toaster, sempai. Somewhere in the kitchen. Would you like me to check, for myself?"

Fuji rubbed his temples. "No. Just... stay there." He glanced back at them. "Will you two stop glaring at each other? It's making me uncomfortable."

"But I'm not glaring," Ryoma countered. "And buchou just normally looks like that."

Tezuka stood up and brushed his pants straight. "I can help you, Syuusuke."

Looking from Ryoma's mischievous expression and Tezuka's frustrated one, he sighed. "Yes. I think I'll need that, Mitsu."

* * *

"I don't know why he's being so difficult." Fuji was looking in the cabinet under his toaster. "The last time he was here, he was pretty agreeable. Was Echizen always like this? How could he... leave such an important thing in the first place? And God, where did he leave that damned passport?" He looked behind him and saw that Tezuka was looking inside the refrigerator. He giggled despite himself. "Found anything, Mitsu?"

Tezuka replied by raising a black booklet. He looked back and gave Fuji one of his rare smiles.

"Found it."

Fuji burst out laughing before walking over him and hugging him by the waist. He raised his head early enough to catch Ryoma turning on his back and walking back to the living room.

The boy wasn't looking too happy.

* * *

"Take care on your way home," Fuji reminded, as he and Tezuka stood in the door. Ryoma looked up at them both sullenly before nodding.

"Thanks for finding my passport, buchou."

Tezuka nodded and held out his hand for a shake. Ryoma took it and they shook hands.

"See you, buchou. See you, sempai."

"See you, Echizen."

As Fuji watched Ryoma walk into the hallway, he felt that somehow, that handshake meant something else entirely. Looking up at Tezuka and seeing the look on his face, he forgot about it altogether.

* * *

Ryoma was annoyed. Didn't Fuji tell him about Tezuka's mild homophobia? So why was he getting all over Fuji all of a sudden?

He threw himself on the hotel bed, deciding to sleep on it.

He found himself awake until morning.

* * *

Fuji found himself not sleeping, and staying up all night until morning, watching Tezuka sleep. They had planned to have him go home, but he was too tired, and he texted Asami that they went out drinking.

Fuji sighed. He liked Asami. Yet he also was overflowing with happiness at the fact that Tezuka chose him.

Why the fuck did Tezuka even get married in the first place? He was sleeping with _Fuji_. And even after he got married, he didn't stop. Fuji should've told him that getting married was a bad idea. Especially the fact that Tezuka married Fuji's college buddy. If Asami found out what they were doing, all hell would break lose. Fuji would lose his friend; Tezuka would lose his good name. He knew Asami. She wasn't the type to go out and badmouth them, but there would definitely be a divorce. Asami wasn't the type to lie, nor Tezuka. And people would know.

He sighed again, a heavier one this time.

How about his baby?

He knew that Tezuka loved Asami. And he knew that he loved their baby.

So... where did Fuji fit in all that?

"Good morning."

Fuji looked up from his arms and smiled at Tezuka, betraying no trace of his thoughts.

"Time to get up and smell the coffee," he told the still half-asleep Tezuka.

He put on his glasses and reached out to touch Fuji's cheek. "You made some?"

Fuji stood up slowly, avoiding his touch. "I'm about to."

* * *

Ryoma never would have imagined it.

He somehow managed to fell asleep at sometime during morning, and woke up at late evening with the sound of his phone ringing. It was some person from the hotel, telling him he had a visitor. Fuji Syuusuke. Immediately, he asked them to let him up and he stood waiting near the door after a few minutes of frantic dressing up.

His door bell rang, and he answered it promptly. Almost breathlessly. Not that he'd make Fuji see it.

"Sempai."

"Echizen. Good evening." Fuji smiled. He took a step inside. "I see that you've been resting the whole day?" He reached up and flattened Ryoma's bed hair down. "There you go." He smiled, and went over the couch.

"Wait- sempai. Why are you here?"

Fuji looked at him, a serious look on his face. "I need your advice." Ryoma almost smirked at this, but Fuji smiled and turned around. "I had no other choice. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "Want anything to drink?"

"Anything you have is fine." Ryoma walked over his refrigerator and looked at Fuji sheepishly, showing racks of Ponta. Fuji chuckled. "Ponta it is, then."

Minutes later, they were sitting face-to-face and Fuji somehow managed to let out his Tezuka-dilemma. Ryoma found himself actually listening, despite his natural aversion to such drama. He couldn't even imagine himself in such a situation.

"So it's all buchou's fault."

"Um... we can't really say _that_." He played with his can. "I mean, I did most of the... inviting."

"But he went back, remember? Even if he had this Asami person."

"I made him like it."

Ryoma scowled at this. "Okay, point taken."

"Sorry, sorry," Fuji said with a laugh. "I keep forgetting that you must be uncomfotable with all this. I went ahead of myself." He put down his can. "Anyway, the point is, I know that we should put an end to it. It's the right thing to do."

"So why do you need my advice for?"

"Because I don't want to do what's right."

Ryoma scratched his head. "You're confusing."

"I knew that it was wrong. But I've come this far, and I've been holding on to every tiny chance I get. Now he's offering me his hand. It's hard for me to ignore it just that easily." Fuji clasped his hands together on top of his thighs, and he looked at Ryoma. "I just want you to tell me what to do, Echizen."

Ryoma stared at Fuji's expectant face. Finally, after what seemed like a full minute of silence, Ryoma leaned closer, his face serious.

"How about you try me, sempai?"

To Ryoma's surprise, Fuji covered his mouth to stop what appeared to be a sudden burst of laughter. A cross look came up his face. "I wasn't _joking_."

Fuji reached out and patted Ryoma on the shoulder amiably. "Oh, Echizen. I'm sorry. I must've gotten you really curious about this, haven't I? This is all too much for you. I'm sorry, I really am. In the first place, why am I even asking _you_ of all people?"

It was a while before his laughter died down. Finally, he stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder and Ryoma sat there, his mouth open in surprise. "Saa, I should really get going."

"I'm not curious, sempai, I-"

"Try reading some manga first. After you know what really happens, you'll pretty much get the gist of it." He ruffled Ryoma's hair. "Now don't you try going after guys now, okay?"

"I was serious!"

"No, you are not." Fuji stood in the doorway with a smile, and gave Ryoma a little wave. "Well then, don't you push this further, Echizen. I'm having a lot on my mind as it is. If you could do me a favor and forget about everything, that would be very helpful." He nodded eagerly. "See you!"

* * *

As soon as Fuji reached the comforts of the elevator, he immediately dropped his smile.

He closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing.

No, he decided. Ryoma was fortunate enough to be normal.

Fuji didn't want to have him stained, as well.

* * *

**To be continued.**

**

* * *

**

Okay, that's the end of the fourth chapter and FINALLY I got the last line in, which is what I've been wanting to insert ever since Ryoma appeared. This update was shorter than usual because I found myself finishing what I wanted to say too early. I'm sorry, I didn't have anything to make up for the delay. Hopefully, the next chapter would come more easily (and would have more Tezuka in it, since I really want to steer this properly towards the climax).

Also, I realized that me wondering about who's seme and who's uke is pointless since in the first place, I'm not even sure if they're going to have a chance to go at it. /sighs

As usual, feedback is not required but would be loved.

BT


	6. Chapter 5

Sorry for the embarrassing delay. I'd like to apologize, as well, to those who read this when I still didn't know that ffnet automatically removed dashes as paragraph breaks. I've replaced everything with lines; it looks ugly, but at least they work.

Thank you once again to all the reviews. I finally managed to push the FujiRyo (or RyoFuji) further forward. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I also made it a bit longer than usual.

Written with the help of iu_fanfiction Writing Challenge #28 (_Buwan ng Wika_ Celebration) prompt, _Walang matigas na tinapay, sa mainit na kape_ (No bread is too hard for a hot cup of coffee ). Thank you for the prompt; I'd never would've had the inspiration to write this without it. Thank you also to Milky Etoile. I was planning to drop this because I was getting bored, but she reignited my love for RyoFuji. Thank you.

All disclaimers apply.

* * *

**The Scarlet Stain**

Beautiful Taboo

* * *

**(cinco)

* * *

**

Fuji was getting restless.

Ever since Ryoma's 'suggestion' a few days back, Fuji had been receiving phone calls from him. They weren't exactly offensive or disturbing. Most of the calls had Ryoma asking him casually about his day, or asking for a match. Although friendly, it freaked Fuji out, as he knew what was behind Ryoma's sudden friendliness.

"Look, Echizen-" Fuji finally said, as he got out of the studio. "Would you please stop harassing me? It's been ten days already. Aren't you supposed to be deep into practicing or something?" Fuji glanced at his watch; Tezuka told him that he'd be over to pick him up in a few minutes for dinner.

There was surprise on the other line. "I wasn't harassing you," Ryoma said defensively.

Fuji sighed. "I know that isn't your intention, but you're stressing me out. I know you have this mischievous streak, but Echizen, I'm too old for your games. If you're so intent on playing this, why don't you just try someone else?"

"I'll talk to buchou then."

Fuji's eyes widened as he gasped. "You wouldn't _dare_."

"Jeez, sempai. That was a joke." Ryoma chuckled on the other line, and Fuji cursed under his breath. "Putting that aside, I won't stop until you acknowledge that I'm serious."

"Okay. You're serious." Ryoma made a frustrated sound over the line. Fuji could see him pouting, and he felt himself wallow in what he knew was a victory. "Now that we're over that, I'm hanging up."

"But-"

"Mitsu's here," Fuji said quickly, before hanging up. He turned off his phone, and walked over to Tezuka's car, smiling as he did so. All thoughts of Ryoma were pushed to the back of his mind.

However, Fuji knew all too well that the cloud of worry Ryoma placed over him still wasn't gone for good.

In fact, it was just beginning.

* * *

The restaurant Tezuka brought Fuji to was his favorite. He was aware that Tezuka knew that, and he happily squeezed his hand from under the table. Tezuka gave him one of the rare smiles which, recently, haven't been really rare at all.

"I take it that the girls are doing fine? It's not often that you invite me to eat dinner out together."

Tezuka nodded. "I have something important to tell you."

Fuji blinked and let go of Tezuka's hand, placed his elbow over the table and casually rested his chin on it. "You seem to be full of surprises these days, Mitsu. Surprising me would be hard at this point." He smiled. "Well then. Shoot."

"I love you."

Fuji couldn't help but blush. "You told me that before."

Tezuka pushed up his glasses, and then folded his hands onto the table, and he met Fuji's anticipating cerulean eyes. "I've decided to... break the marriage off." He cleared his throat. "With Asami."

Fuji's mouth hung open.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka pressed, in his collected, Tezuka-manner, "I'm never letting you go this time."

His eyes said just the same thing.

* * *

Ryoma completely ignored the maître d' as he swiftly made his way into the restaurant. He still had his sports coat on, the first thing he pulled out of his closet when he made his way out of the hotel a few hours earlier. It took him a while to find the place, but it didn't take him long to find the two seated in one of the corner tables.

Tezuka looked solemn, while Fuji looked... rather horrified.

Ryoma could only guess what they were talking about, as he managed to hear the last snippets of Tezuka's... _confession_, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he walked over to them, and stood right in front of their table. Tezuka glanced at him, while Fuji remained silent with shock, obviously not aware of the new presence in their table.

"Good evening, buchou," Ryoma greeted curtly, bowing slightly and looking at his previous captain from under his bangs.

"Good evening," Tezuka greeted back, almost as curtly. He paused, and watched as Ryoma's cat-like eyes drifted onto Fuji, and back to him again. Ryoma was glaring at him accusingly for a second, before mellowing his expression down for a bit. "Coincidence?"

Finally, the young man smirked. "I don't think so." With that, he took Fuji by the wrist, and dragged the still-silent photographer out of the restaurant.

Tezuka sighed as he looked at the check Ryoma had slammed on the table before he stormed out.

Sighing once more, he cradled his chin on his hand, looked out the window, and began to think.

* * *

"Echizen," Fuji finally breathed out. He looked bewildered, as he panickedly glanced around his surrounding – rather, his lack of a proper one – which was traffic and the highway. He was somehow on a motorcycle, running at a speed that Fuji thought needed to warrant a ticket, and wearing a heavy helmet which smelled distinctly of menthol shampoo. Ryoma was driving.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, Echizen?" he screamed loudly, hitting Ryoma's helmet with his. "Get me back there at once!"

"Can't hear you, sempai!" Ryoma shouted back. Fuji could swear he saw Ryoma grin.

He frowned, and tightened his hold around Ryoma's waist, suddenly feeling the fear sink in.

He was going to pay for this.

Oh, Echizen Ryoma was going to _pay_.

* * *

Fuji, although seething, couldn't help but watch as Ryoma took off his helmet and shook out his hair. There was something in him that somehow felt that this was all planned. Nevertheless, it was quite a beautiful sight, and Fuji found himself staring. Again.

Ryoma smirked at him brilliantly. "Glad you appreciate it."

Fuji looked away, flushing, and inwardly kicking himself. "Quit teasing me. It's not as funny as you think," he muttered, pulling the helmet closer to his chest. He tucked his leg underneath the other, trying to feel more comfortable on the rock that he was sitting on. They were both outside Seigaku, somewhere at the back wall, near the tennis courts.

"Aa, sure brings back memories, doesn't it, sempai?"

Before nostalgia sunk in, Fuji shook his head and glared. "Shut up. Let's go back. Mitsu must be worried. And I have work in a few hours."

Ryoma frowned, obviously displeased. "You looked pretty peeved at what buchou was telling you," he pointed out. "I just wanted to help."

"How could you decide that on your own? You just don't want to admit loss in this prank of yours," Fuji accused. "Mitsu and I were talking about something important! And you had to cut in the middle!"

"I know!" Ryoma replied, his voice rising. It took Fuji aback, and he bent away slightly. "I know it was something important! I could get that much! Because sempai is mada mada, and buchou is, too! You two are full of too much bullshit! Why can't you two just..."

Fuji watched as Ryoma stopped, his breathing heavy, and his face flushed. The boy's eyes never left him. They were panicked, as if Ryoma discovered something he shouldn't have. Fuji knew what it meant, and he stared back, his own eyes wide with fear. Fuji recognized that look all too well. The same one he had during that day in the bathroom, during his first year in high school...

Guilt quickly flooded the tensai's system. He clutched his hair, and lowered his head, his skin getting paler by the minute. "Echizen, I'm so sorry- I-" Fuji began, but he was cut short when Ryoma marched determinedly towards him, eventually pinning him against the wall, and forcing their eyes to lock.

The look on Ryoma's face was neither accusing nor angry.

"Don't be," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "It's not your fault."

And he kissed him.

* * *

Fuji sat on the rock, his knees to his chest, and his hands to his hair.

It had been ten minutes or so since they stopped.

Right in the middle of it, Ryoma suddenly tensed up, mumbled a 'shit' under his breath, and gently pushed Fuji away. Fuji wasn't even aware that he was kissing back just as intensely, until the glaze his in vision cleared. Ryoma, flushed, gave a quick apology, before walking further into the dark.

After hearing certain sounds a few seconds later, Fuji had an idea on what happened. And he found himself being in the same position.

Now, with guilt hanging like a guillotine over his head after jerking off from (only!) his kouhai's kiss, he was once again thrown into a pit of confusion.

It was all Ryoma's fault.

The damn boy certainly knew what he was doing.

* * *

Ryoma wiped the sweat from his forehead, as he finished the last of the tissues in the pack he luckily had on him. He was thankful, for once, for being too lazy to dry clean his jackets. The rest of the tissues were now buried under the ground, as well as the manifestation of his feelings.

Fuck it, he was probably going insane.

'Feelings' his ass.

Still, as he made his way back to his sempai, he knew that the words weren't exactly far from the truth.

And, seeing Fuji's expression as the man looked up, Ryoma was sure that he wasn't the only one who knew it.

* * *

"I'm serious."

"... I don't think I can say 'no' to that, now."

Fuji listened, as Ryoma shifted in his seat beside him. As the seconds ticked, the heavier the guilt weighed on his shoulders. First, Tezuka and his wife. Now, Ryoma and his manhood. Who else was Fuji going to drag down to the deepest pits of hell with him?

"Ne. Are you Catholic?"

Ryoma nodded.

"This is called sodomy." Fuji paused. "And you can go to hell for it."

Ryoma said, "I know that, sempai." Stubbornly, he added, "I don't care."

"It'll hurt. It's not the same as girls. It won't get wet. There'll be blood at times. There'll-"

Ryoma scratched his head, irritated and embarrassed. "I'm not doing this to get in your pants, okay?"

Fuji was about to say something more, when he felt Ryoma grip his hand tightly. He looked at Ryoma, and found him blushing up to the tips of his ears. Ryoma was looking at his knees. The grip became tighter.

"I'm never letting you go that easily, either, got it?"

* * *

**To be continued.

* * *

**

Ryoma is seme.

BRB AS I COMMIT SEPPUKU

SEE YOU ALL IN HELL LEVEL Y WHERE ALL THE CHEESY BASTARDS ARE PUNISHED

Will probably be... revised or something.

BT


End file.
